


Violet Eyes

by MaraSenpai1997



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: F/F, Family Feels, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Skiing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 16:51:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13081137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaraSenpai1997/pseuds/MaraSenpai1997
Summary: ~ Get Brighter ~He could already imagine the headlines though, something along the lines of ‘gold medallist joins beginner class to impress a guy he just met’. It had a nice ring to it though.In which Emil is an Olympic medalist and joins a beginner class to impress a handsome instructor, Michele is smitten and Emil's family is playing low-key matchmaker. (Though it's his injured ankle who is the real hero here.)





	Violet Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I wonder why it takes me so long to update. Then I realise I can't write anything short...
> 
> Title stolen from: **Vanilla Twilight - Owl City**

**Nekola brings home first gold for Alpine Skiing**

In the Olympic Winter Games in Vancouver, Helena Nekola won the bronze medal in the Alpine Skiing Women’ slalom, which was the first medal the Czech Republic won in the sports-category Alpine Skiing. It seems that her younger brother, Emil Nekola, is following in her footsteps. On February the 14th Nekola brought home the gold medal for Men’s super-combined, making it the first gold medal that the Czech Republic has won in this sports-category. Nekola manages to both snatch silver on the Men’s giant slalom on the 19th of February and bronze on the Men’s slalom on the 22nd of February. This makes him the most successful Czech athlete in these winter games with three wins. He also shares the first place with Martina Sáblíková, Speedskating athlete, with the most wins a year. Sáblíková won three medals in Vancouver, the same year Nekola’s sister participated, in the Speed skating category. An exclusive interview with Nekola can be found on page 8, where he talks about his success in Sochi, his training regime and the plans for Pyeongchang.

 

**Nekola drops out of Pyeongchang**

With a regretful heart, Nekola announced on his social media pages that he won’t be able to participate in the upcoming Olympic Games due to an injury he sustained during training. The injury in question isn’t severe, but it can’t handle the hours of training Nekola goes through to get ready for the games. Instead of being devastated like many of his fans — Nekola has gained quite a large following after his victories in Sochi — he tells his fans that he might not be able to represent his country in Pyeongchang. He, however, can finally spend some quality time with his family, Nekola, his sister, who goes by Nekola-White after marrying gold medallist Shawn White, his brother in law White and their two children. Nekola’s plans are unknown, but his fans have let him known he would be dearly missed at the games and wished him the best recovery-wise.

 

**January 2018**

“Are you sure this is a brilliant idea?” his sister, Helena, asked, looking over her shoulder where Emil was sandwiched between his two cousins.

 

“Lena, dear,” Shawn, Helena’s husband and their driver, said carefully as if he was going to bring in devastating news. “We already booked the rooms, we’re already _driving_ to our destination. It’s a bit late to change his mind.”

 

Emil let out a chuckle when Helena huffed, eyes narrowing in a not threatening glare. Not even the twins were fazed by their mum’s antics, continuing to ogle at their tablets, playing some mind-numbing game. He was glad that the twins didn’t protest too much when Helena had decided that they would go on a ski holiday in Switzerland. They were pretty excited actually, at least for seven-year-olds.

 

“But you are injured, won’t skiing make it worse?” Helena protested.

 

Helena’s argument was a lost cause, and Emil knew that his sister also knew. But she was stubborn so she wouldn’t back down till Emil offered her solid evidence that he was fine.

 

“The doctor gave me the go-ahead,” Emil said, rolling his shoulders to get the soreness out of it. It didn’t help. That happens if you sit in a car for six hours straight. “As long as I don’t over-exercise, it will be fine. I rather keep it at a slow pace than sitting home doing nothing.”

 

Helena huffed but accepted defeat, sinking back into the front seat.

 

Another hour passed and Emil almost eyed the white mountaintops with longing. His sister had decided that they would ski close-by Italy, giving her the opportunity to add a trip to Rome if she got her way. Knowing Shawn well enough, that trip to Rome would happen because he simply couldn’t say no. If Emil got his way, they would spend the five weeks they got off — how Helena had managed to get the time off for kids remained a mystery to Emil.

 

“Uncle Emil,” Emily — Emil still believed she was named after him despite that Shawn’s mother also was called Emily — said, jabbing her bony elbow in his side. “Why do you have a room on your own?”

 

The question came as a surprise, as Emil doubted that Helena had shared many details about their accommodation. But, on the other hand, he had seen his cousin mindlessly stare out of the window for at least half-an-hour, looking ready to open the car door and jump out the car. Thank heavens for child safety locks. So he supposed that she was just bored and would do anything to amuse herse;f.

 

“Because the four of us share a room and uncle Emil surely doesn’t want to go to bed the same time as you two do, so he opted for his own room,” Helena explained, barely unable to hide the glee in her voice.

 

Sadly enough, Shawn didn’t have the same amount of tact as his wife. Thankfully, he still had his kid-friendly filter on.

 

“Plus uncle Emil surely wants to invite some friends over,” Shawn said, winking into the rear-view mirror. “And he doesn’t want to bother us with that.”

 

Emily pouted, crossing her small arms. “But I like meeting new people, Emil’s friends are _nice_.”

 

Now he recalled why didn’t like Shawn _that_ much. You did not make sexual references in front a kid, even if it was just low-key. Because now Emil had to explain to his seven-year-old cousin that the ‘friends’ your dad was talking about was a girl or guy Emil might sleep with. Not that he wanted one-night stands, but at some point people had stopped wanting to actually date him and instead just sleeping with him. He wasn’t even that famous, that popular, but for whatever reason, nobody wanted a steady relationship with him. Just a warm bed for a few nights and that’s it.

 

“But these are special friends,” Shawn explained as if he was explaining basic math. “If things work out between them, you might have a new uncle or auntie in the future.”

 

Emily’s entire face lit up, blue eyes sparkling with excitement. “Does that means I finally get a cousin?”

 

If he hadn’t been sitting behind the wheel, Shawn probably would have been laughing hysterical. That was the usual way things went. The kids got curious, Helena tried to gently explain, Shawn made things worse till he was laughing uncontrollably and it was up to his sister to fix things before the kids realised what actually was going on. The count of sexual innuendos was _way_ too high.

 

Maybe going skiing with the family hadn’t been such a bright. Not because of his slightly injured ankle, but because Shawn was going to drive him crazy before the end of their stay.

 

~*~

 

The first day of their stay passed by in a blur.

 

They arrived around afternoon, checked in, had dinner and went to their rooms. Soon after, unpacking and showering and at nine ‘o clock, Emil had considered his bed looking appealing. Nine was early, insanely early, but Emil was tired. A nine-hour car drive didn’t help, nor did the fact that the kids simply didn’t want to let him sleep. What was up with the newest generation thinking that sleep was underrated — sleep and caffeine was the only thing that kept Emil going.

 

So, after a tiring, dull first day, Emil expected the second day to be better. Breakfast was great, like, seriously, Emil had gotten a few odd looks from other visitors from how much food he scooped on his plate. Helena wasn’t looking exactly happy either, but Shawn was taking it all in stride. The twins were thankfully too distracted by the largeness of their hotel to even eye him critically. Emily clearly had her disapproving glance from her mum.

 

Of course, breakfast was just the start of a rather eventful day. Both the good and the bad, but Emil was pretty sure he would mainly remember the good because there had been plenty of good.

 

~*~

 

“Please,” Helena begged, blue eyes blown big. The dreaded puppy eyes both he and Helena were famous for.  “Just for today. The classes last for what, two hours? Shawn has been invited by some of his snowboard friends, and I had some shopping planned. They adore you so it should be no problem.”

 

Emil looked at his skies with so much regret that it must look like a heartbreak to anyone else. He really had wanted to test out the slopes around here. But he couldn’t let the kids be unsupervised, that would make him a terrible uncle. Plus, by the time the skiing classes were finished, Helena should be done with shopping and Emil was free to go. Two hours, maybe three at most. Plus it was only once, so it wasn’t like he was stuck with bringing the kids to class for a couple of weeks.

 

“Okay, yes,” Emil said, bagging his skies. He wouldn’t need them. “I’ll take them to the class.”

 

Helena’s face lit up with relief. After hugging him briefly, it was a bit awkward being hugged while wearing an incredibly puffy coat, Helena dropped the twins off at his side.

 

Both looked absolutely adorable, in matching coats, gloves and knitted scarves. Their cheeks were rosy due to the cold and Emily’s hair was braided, falling down her back.

 

“Ready to learn how to ski?” Emil asked, clapping his gloved hands together. “Before you know it, you’re better than your mum and dad combined.”

 

Emily looked excited, looking around the resort with amazement. Luke, on the other hand, had quite the passive look on his face. However, Emil recognised the dangerous glint in his eyes, one he got from his dad. He was competitive, ready to be actually better than both his parents. It was cute. Helena had _only_ won bronze once, but Shawn had won several medals for snowboarding, so it wasn’t going to be _that_ easy.

 

“But why won’t you teach us?” Luke asked, looking a tad nervous. While Emily was a social butterfly, Luke was a bit shyer. He didn’t like strangers.

 

“Because I’m not a teacher,” Emil said, ushering the twins along while picking up their skies. “There surely will be a kind lady that is willing to teach you, she probably has done this many years so she probably won’t eat you. Otherwise, she would have been fired a long time ago for eating children.”

 

 

~*~

 

If Shawn had been there, he would have cackled his evil laugh the moment Emil lost his footing and fell face first into the snow.  He wasn’t even wearing skies, but the moment he had caught sight the teacher —  it had to be the teacher because he wore the uniform of the skiing school — he had landed face-first into the snow.

 

He rather had seen a thirty-something mother, preferably with short-mum hair, a kind smile and crow feet at the corners of her eyes when she smiled. Because these weren’t the people Emil fell for, both figuratively and literally. But mainly figuratively, because it has been a while someone had caught him off guard like that.

 

The instructor was simply gorgeous. He was Emil’s height with rich olive skin, a subtle, slightly awkward smile and the prettiest almost purple eyes Emil had ever seen. Was he glad the man wasn’t wearing goggles because those eyes shouldn’t be hidden from the world, though goggles were nice if you, you know, actually were skiing because the wind and rubble were a pain in the arse?

 

It was a bit sad to fall down into the snow with your last thoughts being about wind and rubble, but Emil was sure that this was his life right now. He wasn’t sure what kind of reactions he was catering, surely a few raised eyebrows, but he could hear the shocked gasps from a few attending parents. The twins, the traitors they were, were shrieking and laughing. Someone, probably Emily, was nudging his leg, probably checking if he was still alive.

 

That was a great first impression, and he didn’t even have gotten the guy’s name yet. On the other hand, he probably was either straight, married, or, Emil’s worst nightmare, not straight but married. Because whoever let this man be single was a complete and utter idiot.

 

“Sir?” a slightly accented voice asked, a few seconds later a shadow loomed over him. Or at least assumed it was a shadow as it suddenly had gotten a bit darker. “Are you okay, do I have to call the medics?”

 

Emil was torn. The snow was cold, and he would surely get sick if he stayed lying like that. But, getting up would mean he would have to face an entire crowd of people who saw him fall flat on his face. The sweet misery of freezing to dead sounded nice, but that would mean the kids would remain unsupervised and his sister would be devastated. Plus, that would also mean he couldn’t enjoy the sight of the beautiful instructor.

 

“I’m okay,” Emil groaned, rolling over, so his gaze was facing the sky.

 

Or, well, it would have been the sky if it hadn’t been the instructor hovering over him, violet eyes — yes he had decided that they were violet eyes — filled with concern. Emil was royally fucked.

 

“You sure?” the instructor asked, blinking a few times. “You went down face first. It must have hurt.”

 

After a struggle that was more mental than physical, Emil accepted the offered hand and let himself being hauled up on two feet. Parents were eyeing him, some with distaste, others barely being able to hide their grin and a few women were giving him a stinky eye. Well, at least he wasn’t the only one attracted to the instructor, that was a small relief. Helena had said before he had a terrible taste in partners, always ending up drawing the short end of the stick.

 

“I’m fine,” Emil reassured the instructor as the latter was still shooting Emil worried looks. “I’m just not used to the snow.”

 

That was the biggest lie he told in his entire life. Emil basically had grown up on the snow, skied at the same age as his cousins currently were. He hadn’t actually fallen into the snow in ages, even the slipperiest parts couldn’t get him down. No, it was the pretty guys that did the trick.

 

“A first timer?” the instructor asked. “We also offer classes for adults, those are my usual classes.”

 

His eyes flickered from between Emil and the twins, who were eyeing the instructor with a combination of glee and awe. They were going to tell their parents, which meant that he would get teased till the ends of the time.

 

Emil knew he was blushing,. The class wouldn’t start in another ten minutes, so it wasn’t as if he was wasting other people their time. That didn’t mean he wasn’t making a fool out of himself because he definitely was. “Yes, first timer,” he said.

 

In all fairness, Emil was surprised that the twins remained quiet for this long, Emily in particular. The issue was that he definitely was lying. And Helena did at least one thing right, and that was to teach her kids that lying was wrong. So, he wasn’t surprised that Emily called him out.

 

“But you have skied before,” she protested, blue eyes wide with disbelief.

 

Well, she at least didn’t mention he was a gold medallist.

 

“Just video games,” he threw the twins a pointed look, mouthing something along the lines of free candy. That did the trick, as Emily’s jaw clicked shut in a matter of seconds. He was a terrible uncle, feeding his cousins candy to keep them quiet.

 

“A few video games during college,” Emil repeated, offering the instructor an awkward smile. “But I’m pretty sure I signed up for the afternoon classes.”

 

The weariness on the instructor’s face faded only a little, his eyes flickered over to the twins and back to him. Suddenly it hit him.

 

The instructor thought these were _his_ kids. He wasn’t wearing a ring, but it wasn’t like that could be seen under the thick gloves he was wearing. And even if the instructor thought he was a single dad, there were still kids to be taking into the consideration.

 

“Anyway, I’m Emil,” he introduced himself and then beckoned the twins to come. “And these are my cousins, would you guys like to introduce yourself.”

 

Luke clutched his pants as if it was a lifeline, clearly not interested in introducing himself. Emily, on the other hand, almost bounced up to the instructor, a large grin on her face.

 

“I’m Emily,” she said, looking up at the male with large eyes. She clearly was as captivated by him as Emil was. It was a family thing. “And that is Luke, my _younger_ brother,” she said cockily.

 

This brought Luke out of his shell, as he huffed and let go of Emil’s pants, glaring daggers at his sister. “I am the oldest one,” he said.

 

As the twins were basically at each other’s throat but otherwise occupied, Emil looked back at the instructor. An amused smile graced his lips, his eyes were shimmering with adoration.

 

“Michele,” he offered, voice muffled by his hand hiding his smile. “Usually my sister is the one doing this class — younger twin sister so, you know,” he gave the bickering twins a kick nod. “This looks familiar.”

 

Emil had no idea why Michele’s sister wasn’t giving this class, she must have a good reason to drop out as Michele wasn’t exactly in his element by being surrounded by kids. Not that Emil was complaining. Though Michele’s presence had landed him in a beginners class, with a group of _beginners_ , and he had to _fake_ it because he probably could out-do most beginners when he was just eight-years-old. But if he could spend more time with Michele, it probably would be worth embarrassing himself into the next dimension. He could already imagine the headlines though, something along the lines of ‘gold medallist joins beginner class to impress a guy he just met’. It had a nice ring to it though.

 

~*~

 

“So, how was class?” Helena asked, relieving him from babysitting duty.

 

The twins seemed reluctant to leave Emil’s side, but they eventually did join their mum. It was odd, as the twins, Luke, in particular, preferred his sister above anyone else, even his twin sister.

 

“It was okay, I suppose,” Emil offered her a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “The teacher was nice.”

 

Emil was glad that it was cold, which made his face already look redder than usual because he definitely was blushing. Stupid. He shouldn’t have mentioned the teacher. If she were going to ask questions about the teacher, Emil would come empty-handed. He could hardly tell her that he had spent most of the class staring at Michele as he interacted with the kids, slowing easing into the job. His smiles were reserved but always genuine, eyes lighting up when the kids figured something out, nose scrunching up a little as a kid fell into the snow. He wasn’t even that bad with kids as he claimed to but, it just took a bit to get used to things. Getting along with kids is a small feat.

 

Emily giggled and tugged Helena’s pants, catching her attention. “Uncle Emil fell into the snow when he saw a pretty guy.”

 

He sends Emily a ‘no candy for you’ look before breaching himself to meet his sister’s gaze.

 

She looked awfully smug in a ‘did you seriously fell for a guy, literally’ kind of way. “He at least must be very pretty to catch you off guard,” she teased, eyes daring, daring him to answer her honestly and not some watered down version.

 

“He was beautiful,” Emil said, knowing for sure his blush wouldn’t go unnoticed. “Like, it’s so unfair.”

 

Helena didn’t tease him, and he perfectly knew why. This sounded an awful lot like Torino, Winter Olympics 2006, in which Helena had called him in near panic because a handsome American snowboarder had winked at her and she had started to babble in Czech to him. She was so sure that she had made a fool out herself that she wanted to hide in her room for the rest of the games so she wouldn’t have to face him anymore and explain why she suddenly started to speak Czech when he just winked at her. Judging by an engagement, marriage and two kids, Emil supposed that things had worked out well enough for her.

 

“Uncle Emil also lied to him,” Emily added, grinning like a Cheshire cat. It was official, Luke was his favourite cousin.

 

This time he wasn’t met with compassion or smugness. Instead, it was disappointment. It stung a little, but on the other hand, Helena had been teaching them that lying is bad, and he was currently a very bad example. Like, very, _very_ bad.

 

“Can I know _why_ you lied?” Helena asked, lips pressed together into a thin line.

 

“I told him I never skied before,” Emil said. “As explanation why I fell on my face,” he soothingly rubbed his neck, as if it could chase away the embarrassment he was feeling. “I also told him I was participating in the beginning classes this afternoon.”

 

Shawn had a terrible influence on his sister. Instead of pitying him, like she did when they were younger, _before_ Shawn, she just started to laugh right into his face.

 

“You’re going,” she said between giggles, offering him a no-nonsense look that would have looked if she wasn’t smiling. “To those classes and act as if you’re an actual beginner. You have dug your own grave, little brother.”

 

Sighing in defeat, Emil pulled his beanie lower his head, covering most his vision. It did little to block out Helena’s giggles, but it was at least better than seeing the amusement that was obviously there.

 

~*~

 

Well, if he got too old for professional skiing, he always could try acting. He was a natural. He was clumsy enough, in the beginning, to make it believable and his progress after an hour or two was just right, he was not the top-dog in the class, but he was above average. Perfect. Not that it mattered much, he spends most of his time staring like a creep anyway. Michele was clearly more in his element with adults than with kids, there was no need for a kid-friendly filter, and he didn’t have to be extra gentle. Though one woman, she could be barely twenty, was near tears at some point till Michele started paying attention to her. She was definitely the better actor out of the two of them — she actually should persuade an acting career.

 

But it didn’t stick with one class. He was stuck with babysitting duties for a couple of times, and he attended all the afternoon classes Michele offered for beginners. Why? Because he couldn’t say no to him and he liked to torture himself. Plus, it seemed that Michele genuinely liked him, or at least found him useful with the kids, because, apparently, Emil was brilliant with kids. As long as they weren’t his cousins because he officially had written Emily off as she kept on making kissing faces each time he talked with Michele, which wasn’t even that much. Okay, that was a lie, he had caught himself starting _way_ too often, and Emily was too observant for a seven-year-old.

 

~*~

 

“I hate drinking,” Emil sniffed, sipping his colourful cocktail. His coach would kill him if he found out Emil was drinking alcohol. Alcohol was terrible on the body. But it wasn’t like he was actually going to PyeongChang, so it didn’t matter much. Just that he got crazy emotional while drinking. “I don’t like feeling things.”

 

Shawn patted him sympathetically on the back, nursing his own beer. “Sorry to tell you, but you’re already an emotional guy,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “You cried when Luke said his first word, he isn’t even your kid.”

 

Rubbing his running nose, Emil shrugged nonchalantly. “He was behind Emily when it came to speaking, and I thought he would never start talking.”

 

“You were the only one who cried,” Shawn said, ordering two more drinks. “But it’s sweet, surely some women find it attractive.”

 

To make his point, he gestured to two women sitting close by, giggling as Shawn waved at them. Emil barely offered them a look, which surely would deter their mood.

 

“They’re twenty at most,” Emil said. “Don’t you think that the age gap is a bit too much?”

 

Shawn shrugged. “That’s eight years, not too bad.”

 

“If they were eight years _older_ ,” Emil argued, loudly putting his glass down. “They’re college students, I’m a working adult.  If you’re trying to set me up, try it with someone my age.”

 

Emil was surprised that Shawn didn’t protest, at all. Instead, he opted to search for someone that fitted Emil’s long list of requirements he sought in a partner. Single, his age and not a total douche. That was his long list, at least the requirements for a first date. After that more things would come up, family orientated, not disliking kids, not hating his passion for skiing, overall sporting and outdated memes.

 

“Guy at the table on the left. The women are taken — rings — but the guy seems to be single,” Shawn said, innocently sipping his beer if this was his everyday job. It had been a bad idea to introduce him to Sherlock, he has watched that show a little _too_ much. Like, if it was up to Shawn, he would be the next Sherlock Holmes. He wasn’t cut out for it, though he already had a maniac-like laughter ready to go so if that was required, well…

 

Amusing his brother-in-law, Emil sought out the two women and man he had been referring to. It was sad how easily he recognised Michele. Probably because of the alcohol, it took a bit longer for his brain to catch up with his sight, as only a handful seconds later panic decided to kick his brain into a frantic.

 

Shawn let out a nonsensical sound, but Emil knew him long enough to figure out that it was smugness. A smug Shawn was a horrible Shawn; he was even worse than Helena. “You like him,” Shawn pointed out if it wasn’t obvious already. “So much for your instructor guy.”

 

“That’s _my_ instructor guy,” Emil said, feeling his face growing unbearable hot. “That’s the guy I have been waxing poetry about for the last few days.”

 

This effectively shut Shawn up. For at least a solid minute, he was looking between Emil and Michele, eyebrows furrowed as he was trying to figure out _what_ made Emil attracted to Michele. Maybe it didn’t help that Shawn was painfully straight. Open-minded, sure, he never had an issue with Emil’s sexuality, but he clearly liked women over men any day of the year.

 

“ _The eyes_ ,” Shawn said as if just found out that ice was cold. “That explains why you have been moaning over violet eyes, and it explains your terrible rendition of Vanilla Twilight.”

 

“My shower sessions are supposed to be _private._ ”

 

It was mortifying, really. Emil knew he was an awful singer, he had heard himself for heaven’s sake, he was fair to judge his terrible singing capabilities. That, however, didn’t make him happy that Shawn had heard him belting out to 2000s pop music. It was a personal thing.

 

Shawn shrugged and ended the conversation. Emil didn’t dislike Shawn, a far cry from, he truly made his sister happy, but he doubted that they would become great friends. Because , aside from their love for winter sports, they didn’t share many interests. But that was fine, he still had Helena and Shawn wasn’t the worst thing in the world. He wasn’t like the brother-in-law you heard in some horror stories.

 

Sipping from his cocktail, Emil sneaked a quick glance at the table where Michele and the two other women were standing. Previously, both women had turned their backs to him, so he hadn’t caught more than dark hair and bright red hair, but the redhead had turned around, eyeing Shawn with weariness. Emil wasn’t exactly surprised, as Shawn had been looking between him and Michele for a while.

 

Taking a few seconds to take in her appearance, dyed red hair, pale skin, blue eyes, Emil couldn’t help but grin brightly, recognising the face as a whole. Noticing that someone was starting, the redhead moved her gaze to him, eyes growing slightly bigger and a grin broke out on her previously tightly pressed-together lips .

 

Mila Babicheva, gold medallist Ladies’ singles figure skating in Sochi 2014 and one of the few people Emil stayed in touch with after that year’s winter Olympics. What were the odds that they would meet out of season, in a different country for both of them? Well, he supposed those odds were _low_ , very low. But not that Emil minded, Mila was a familiar face outside of his family, and it was nice to actually talk with someone else.

 

~*~

 

His head was still throbbing a little, even as the other skier had absorbed most of the hit. It hadn’t been his fault, to begin with, Emil was doing perfectly fine, being one of the best in the beginner’s class, but not yet the best, but there were a few who were simply terrible without an ounce of talents. He did admire their determination though. This also had meant when one of the students had collided with him headfirst, he had made sure they were okay _and_ had assured them that it was fine, things could happen and that they definitely shouldn’t stop trying, no matter how hopeless it seemed. It was almost as if Emil was the teacher, but as a skier, he had plenty of moments that giving up seemed like a wonderful idea, and you should never do that unless you truly had to, and even then it was debatable.

 

This, however, didn’t make head throb less, and the expectation of an upcoming headache was almost one-hundred percent. He had to take out the painkillers if he wanted to sleep properly tonight.

 

Letting his eyes flicker over the class — Emil had convinced Michele that he should just continue, accidents like these happened all the time — he wasn’t surprised that his gaze settled down on Michele. He was helping one of the younger adults, the woman with a natural flair for acting. She was batting her eyelashes prettily at him, but Michele wasn’t even remotely affected. It didn’t help the age difference was most likely over a decade, which was a lot. She was probably in her early twenties while Michele had told him he was thirty-two. He looked good for a thirty-two-year-old. Emil never expected himself to be attracted to older men, but on the other hand, Michele wasn’t _that_ much older than him.

 

Emil only flinched a little when someone sat down next to him. As he hadn’t seen anyone approaching, Emil supposed they had sneaked up from behind him, purposely trying to scare him.

 

“You know that this is a beginner’s class, right?”

 

Blinking in fraud innocent, Emil offered his new neighbour a dazzling smile.

 

He hadn’t crossed roads with Mila since the day in the local bar, which was three days ago. It was a bit odd as it wasn’t a large resort, he had seen most people twice, if not more. There was this one woman he kept on running in, whenever it was at the supermarket, on the slope or even in the washroom — which had been a god-honest accident on Emil’s behalf.

 

“Yeah, I know,” Emil said, fighting away the fast forming blush. “Bit of an accident, really.”

 

Mila laughed and shook her head in disbelief. Fair enough, it was a bit hard to believe he had signed up for beginner’s classes _and_ kept attending them. The latter in specific was an issue because Emil easily could drop out and call it a mistake. He didn’t.

 

“Somehow, I doubt that it is an actual accident,” Mila said, an all-knowing smile on her chapped lips. “I think it has more to do with a very handsome instructor that’s giving the class.”

 

Emil couldn’t help but frown a little. It wasn’t that Mila was wrong, she definitely wasn’t, it was just weird hearing those words coming out of her mouth.

 

“Aren’t you lesbian?” Emil asked, hoping that he wasn't rude. He doubted it, Mila showed off her sexuality with pride, but that didn’t mean Emil could ask about it whenever he wanted to.

 

It seemed that Mila had picked up on his string of thoughts, as she let out a good-hearted laugh and patted him on the back. “Yes, I’m. But, for starters, his sister is a beautiful specimen, and they’re twins, so it’s fair to say he’s probably handsome too,” a pause followed. “Plus, I’m not _blind_.”

 

“Fair enough,” Emil admitted. “Though, you know his sister?”

 

“My fiancé,” Mila said, smiling like she was talking about the best thing in her world. It might be — being engaged to someone you absolutely and utterly adored sounded like a fairy tale come true.

 

“I don’t recall you being engaged,” Emil admitted, feeling slightly guilty for not knowing. He supposed that he and Mila were decently close, at least close enough to share such news.

 

Mila patted his leg, offering him an apologetic smile. “It’s fairly recent. We’ve been dating for _years_ , even before the 2014 games. We have been planning the engagement for a while, but I was busy with figure skating, and Sara has her own work. Living in different countries didn’t help either,” a nostalgic smile teased Mila’s lips. “But last half year, things escalated. I had a fall-out with my coach, so being the stubborn person I am, I moved to Italy to live with Sara and take a break from figure skating, even with the Olympics coming up. Then, the proposal happened, and then the news came in that they found a sperm donor that wouldn’t clash with Sara’s medical history, well…”

 

It was a little hard to believe all those things had happened in just a span of half-a-year. On the other hand, life could change in a matter of seconds, and half-a-year were millions of those seconds. Emil had been aware that Mila had a fall-out with her coach and went off social media for a while, he could hardly blame her, but the engagement and foremost plausible pregnancy were definitely new.

 

“So you’re expecting a baby?” Emil asked, unable to hide his joy. He liked kids, a lot, and seeing one of his friends becoming a mum was just great. Plus, it could give him an excuse to babysit more often, giving him the chance to see Mila, and in addition Sara, more often and be able to spend time with an adorable kid — it had to be adorable, as long as they weren’t crying.

 

“Yes,” Mila said, lighting up as a flickering flame. “Sara is three months along. There isn’t much visible yet, but she had to lay off the skiing, which does pain her a little.”

 

Emil let his gaze flicker to Michele, who had moved on to someone else. That explained a lot why he took over his sister’s class. With her being pregnant, she wouldn’t get the clear ahead from the doctor. Helena hadn’t either, and she had been fuming because she wanted to put on her skies and _ski_.

 

Grabbing hold of one of her gloved hands, Emil smacked a wet kiss on Mila’s forehead. “Congratulations,” he said, making sure that it sounded as genuine as he felt “If you ever need any advice, I have been an uncle for over seven years and I have _way_ too many babysitting hours under my belt. I think I could change a diaper blindfolded.”

 

 “Thanks,” Mila flicked his forehead, which was fair enough. The kiss probably wasn’t very appreciated. “I’ll keep the babysitting experience in mind. If you aren’t too busy undressing handsome men.”

 

Emil blinked, realising that his gaze had once again moved to Michele, even if it was for a brief moment. It was ridiculous how attracted he was to Michele; he barely knew the guy.

 

“Just one,” Emil corrected her. “But don’t worry, it’s nothing.”

 

Mila made a chocking like noise, hitting him not so gently on the arm. “Nothing?” she said, disbelief clearly present. “You look like a lost puppy eyeing him. You even took beginners classes to see him. That isn’t nothing,” a brief pause followed. “Plus he’s gay if you want to know.”

 

Okay, gay, noted.

 

Wait. What?

 

“Are you seriously setting me up with your fiancé’s brother?”

 

“Why not?” Mila said, shrugging nonchalantly. “You clearly like him, and I have no doubt that he will be impressed with you if tell him that you’re a gold medallist in _Alpine Skiing._ He has seen your name in the newspapers, believe it or not.”

 

“Or he thinks I’m a liar and have been lying to get in his pants,” Emil said sombrely, hiking up his knees and hugging them close to his chest.

 

“And have you been lying to get in his pants?”

 

Letting out a hurt-filled noise, Emil shook his head. “No, if it was up to my brother-in-law _yes_ , I would have, but a relationship isn’t just sex. I don’t want to sleep with someone I don’t have a personal connection to. Sex doesn’t create that connection, it only amplifies it if under the right circumstances, and that is when you knew them inside out. It should be a sign of trust between two parties, that you’re willing to let them see your venerable side without any walls up.”

 

Mila’s expression was one he would either classify as the ‘you’re too good for this world, too pure’ look or the ‘mama is so proud’ look, the latter would be awkward in these circumstances but still-

 

“You know,” Mile started, her voice slightly thrown off by her huge grin. “I always wondered how you were still single because I have heard from plenty of people you were handsome, kind, a real gentleman and probably great in bed, but this explains _so_ _much_.”

 

It was hard to believe that people actually thought he was handsome, or great in bed. He hadn’t slept with anyone in ages, and it was sort of hard to judge someone capabilities in bed from just looks.

 

“You’re _waiting_ ,” Mila said gleefully. “Waiting for the right one to come along and sweep you off your feet. To find the one that actually wants a relationship with you and not sleeps with you because you’re handsome, semi-famous or have a nice sum of money in your bank account.”

 

 “Well, _yes_ ,” Emil admitted. “I just want someone who loves me for me, not that ‘me’ has much to offer.”

 

“You have so much to offer, you big teddy bear,” Mila said. “The fact that you’re a huge dork alone should be a selling point.”

 

Emil seriously wondered how being a huge dork, which he admittedly was, was a selling point? He could talk hours upon hours about skiing, his family, the newest series he was watching or whatever outdated meme he had found on the Internet. 

 

“Are you really sure? I don’t know anyone who likes outdated memes,” Emil said, eyes shamelessly settling down on Michele, _again_. He might as well just continue to watch without feeling guilty.

 

Mila squeezed his arms, clearly in a reassuring manner. “Very little people do,” she admitted. “But it’s you — the terrible memes are a part of the package. We all have a package that comes with dating us. Michele has a sister complex, Sara has a not-so-secret collection of Seung-gil Lee relics, and I dye my hair religiously because my dark roots irk me. Loving outdated memes should be the least of your worries.”

 

It was hard to hide his grin. It wasn’t because Mila’s speech was exactly what he needed, the gesture was nice though, no, the fact that Sara was a closeted fan of Seung-gil Lee was ironic. Seung-gil Lee was a Short track skater that won two gold medals and one silver medal in Vancouver. The fact that Sara used to crush on an Olympic Short track skater and end up marrying an Olympic figure skater was low-key funny. Though Mila definitely was a better choice in Emil’s opinion.

 

“I find it funny that she liked Lee, he was, well… a far cry from the most pleasant person I have talked with,” Emil said, trying not to grimace.

 

“I know,” Mila said. “But on the other hand, I suppose he’s at least handsome?”

 

Emil chuckled. “I suppose he is, but he isn’t exactly my type.”

 

Mila giggled. “I think your type is walking towards us.”

 

Emil was pretty sure that all the colour drained from his face as Michele strode towards them, face filled with annoyance. Was he thinking that Emil was flirting with Mila? It could look like that — but it definitely wasn’t! He preferred people who were single and interested in men, and Mila fitted neither of these criteria.

 

Michele’s eyes were blazing with annoyance, which should terrify Emil if he wasn’t completely captivated — well, now he knew that he had a thing for expressive eyes. It would be quite the experience if he ever met someone with kaleidoscope-like eyes.

 

“Mila, are you seriously harassing my students?” Michele looked like a disappointed brother from head to toe, which was pretty funny to see. Time to add mother-henning to the list of everything that made Michele, well, Michele.

 

Mila crossed her arms, and god-honest _pouted_. “I wasn’t harassing him — but I will leave you two to it. I have a fiancé to take care of, and my presence clearly isn’t appreciated.”

 

Emil knew a frustrated Mila if he ever saw one, and this wasn’t it. she was _teasing_. The wink that followed only added to that, though Michele either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

 

“Please tell me she wasn’t harassing you,” Michele looked genuinely guilty. “She can be a bit… overwhelming.”

 

Plastering a grin on his face, Emil made a shrugging motion. “She was fine, your girlfriend?”

 

The grimace was worth gold, or at least his gold medal. “No, she is my future sister-in-law, though a menace fits better.”

 

Barely managing to contain a chuckle, Emil looked at Michele with a grin painted on his face. He probably looked unattractive, in the past people had pointed out that he looked old when he laughed, with crinkling eyes and laugh-lines on full display.  “I have a brother-in-law, want to switch? I would rather have Mila in my family than my current brother-in-law.”

 

Michele looked a little lost for words, mouth opening and closing a couple of times before a nonsensical sound made its way past his lips.

 

Oh, he had broken Michele. Maybe he should smile less. Was that even an option? Emil and smiling went hand-in-hand, really.

 

~*~

 

“You know, when you asked me to help you with something, I wasn’t expecting… this,” Emil gestured to store, that displayed some bright colours and a name in Italian that Emil couldn’t read.

 

It was weird to see Michele in casual clothing. Well, not entire casual yet, he was still wearing a poufy coat, but that was to be expected with this weather. It wasn’t as if Emil had forgone his comfortably, warm jacket for a more stylish coat. But the jeans were new, and a clear face too. This might not be exactly good for Emil’s heart, though the fitted jeans did some rough work on Michele’s heart.

 

Michele looked like a lost puppy, panic evident on his face. “I’m sorry,” he said, waving his arms in a flurry of motions. “But I still have to buy the presents for the baby, _and_ I’m terrible at shopping. You’re an uncle — you have been around kids so you should at least have a gist of what I should get.”

 

Emil wanted to point out that the baby was maybe three months, four tops, along. So he still had five months to figure out a present. It shouldn’t be _that_ hard to pick something for a baby. Some cute clothes, a baby blanket, maybe diapers if you were truly lost for what to do. Because, no matter how dull the present was, every baby needed diapers.

 

“That I’m an uncle doesn’t mean I know what I’m doing,” which was the plain truth. Emil loved kids, really did, but he wasn’t there at the worst moments of having a kid. “But picking out some baby things shouldn’t be too difficult.”

 

The store was decked out with baby things, from clothes in all kind of size-categories to blankets, stuffed animals and all kind of fluffy and fuzzy things that made Emil want to rub his face against them.

 

Michele looked a little pale, looking around the shop with underlying panic.

 

“It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?” Emil teased, pulling Michele further into the shop.

 

Michele nodded, lips pressed tightly together. “Why are there so many clothes? Like, I get the sizes — but all the colours. Why?”

 

Emil had no idea why either. Things would have been loads easier if there were just a few articles of clothing, but there were many options, ranging from overly feminine, to more masculine colours and then you had the neutral section of colours, whites, greys and blacks.

 

“Gender?” Emil asked, browsing the section of stuffed animals. Definitely one of them— nothing beat a good stuffed animal, Emil was pretty sure he had his lying around somewhere, unable to throw it away.

 

“No-one knows,” Michele said, awkwardly browsing the toys. “So, we’re going neutral?”

 

“Depends on who is leading this show,” Emil said, picking up a soft-yellow coloured rabbit. It was soft yet sturdy, the seams were carefully tucked away, and there were no buttons— so no choking hazard. “I mean, this thing is adorable,” he tossed Michele the rabbit.

 

With clumsy hands he caught it, inspecting it with an unsure yet critical eye. “Rabbits aren’t supposed to be this colour,” he deadpanned.

 

Laughing, Emil picked up a few more of the same-coloured rabbits, earning him a raised eyebrow. “Brighter colour supposedly affects younger kids in a positive manner, it’s cute, and you never can go wrong with rabbits.”

 

Reluctantly, Michele placed the rabbit in the basket. Immediately after, Emil dumped his extra haul in the basket.

 

“You’ll thank me later,” Emil reassured Michele, moving on to the blanket section. “Little kids get very attached to their stuffed animals. Most of them won’t sleep without them, so having some as back-up is an absolute must. They won’t notice the difference anyway, as they visually all look the same.”

 

Michele looked genuinely impressed, nodding along as Emil told him the story about how Luke refused to sleep until he got his teddy back, which he accidentally had left at a grocery store.

 

“Now, a soft blanket is a kid’s best friend. At least, I assume you want to buy more than one present? Otherwise, we keep it at the rabbit?”

 

Michele nodded. “Yes, I was planning on buying a couple of things, you know, showing Sara my support in one way or another. Maybe I’m not good with kids, but I certainly can spoil them rotten.”

 

“Or you _practice_ ,” Emil said, picking up a sample blanket. The texture was soft, and the fabric seemed durable, something he had started to appreciate as soon as he started to babysit the twins. “This one is nice, what do you think?”

 

It was blue with multi-coloured owls printed on it. Not too masculine, not too feminine, plus it was ridiculously cute — Luke probably would have said yes if it was several sizes larger and Emily wasn’t present.

 

A subtle crooked smile that adorned Michele’s lips was paired with a softness in his eyes that Emil only could associate with adorning. Maybe Michele had finally caught onto the baby-fever. Or he genuinely thought the blanket was cute.

 

“The blanket is a yes,” Michele said, voice laced with resignation. He probably had realised that Emil would get his way one way or another. Plus, it was hard to say no to baby stuff, it was just so stupidly _cute_. “Do we also need more of those or am I safe?”

 

Putting down the sample, Emil took the bounded one from the shelf and placed it in the basket.

 

“Nah, one is plenty. It usually depends on the kid, Luke was really attached to his while Emily was content with pretty much anything that was soft and cuddly.”

 

Okay, definitely the baby-fever. Maybe Michele had a boyfriend and was finally considering settling down and adopt kids? However, if that was the case, why was Emil here and not Michele’s boyfriend? This would be something you did with someone close, like a good friend or boyfriend, not someone you knew for two weeks.

 

“Okay, I know that I’m prying,” Emil held his hands up in surrender. “But why going shopping with me? I mean, don’t you have a girlfriend to go with?”

 

Michele grimaced at the word girlfriend for a brief moment before schooling his face. “No, I haven’t had a serious relationship since college, which has been _ages_ ,” the loneliness didn’t go undetected.  “And you were the best option as I literally know nobody around here, and I don’t like sharing my private life with people, but as you know that my sister is marrying a woman, and aren’t judging us, well…”

 

“It would be hypocritically for me to judge your sister and Mila as an openly bisexual man so,” offering Michele a sheepish smile, Emil rubbed the back of his neck, hoping that he could take it all back. Now he had made things awkward.

 

There clearly was no need for him to take it all back, as Michele looked like the happiest person on the earth, or at least within the shop. That shouldn’t be pretty hard, as there were just the two of them an employee, who looked like she needed another cup of coffee.

 

“Bisexual huh?” Michele asked, a subtle smile on his face. “Explains why Mila liked you and was actually willing to open up, she is good at noticing those little things.”

 

Well, Emil wasn’t going to discredit Mila, he liked Mila too much, but the reason Mila had figured out that Emil was bisexual was because they _talked_ with each other. Plus, the fact Emil has been eyeing Michele for a bit _too_ long. No straight guy would eye another male with such a gaze.

 

“I suppose,” Emil eventually settled down on. “You’re lucky to have Mila, she is a good woman, a little crazy, but she doesn’t do things half-heartedly.”

 

The words passed his lips with a little too much ease. Aside from a mildly surprised look, Michele didn’t comment on the fact that he knew Mila on some personal level.

 

“So, now the clothes?”

 

~*~

 

“Care to explain why we’re speaking in Czech?” Helena asked, thankfully whispering as she leaned closer to him.

 

Emil let out unintelligible sounds and gestured vaguely into the distance.

 

Into the said distance was Michele, who was animatedly talking with a woman. She had long, black hair, olive skin and the same shade of violet eyes as Michele, so Emil supposed that she was Sara. The pregnancy signs weren’t really there yet, but Emil was a far cry from an expert when it came to pregnancies. He spent most of Helena’s pregnancy practising, after all, aiming for the top.

 

“Are you telling me you have a _language_ kink?” Helena asked while faux-scandalised, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Because that’s definitely isn’t English.”

 

Ignoring the obvious flush that painted his face red, Emil took a bit of a breather by nursing a non-alcoholic beverage. One night drinking with Shawn was more than plenty.

 

“It’s not a kink, it doesn’t turn me on or anything, it’s more…” Emil let out a sigh. He sounded almost like a high schooler. “His accent is nice, and so is his Italian.”

 

Helena huffed. “Why Italian? I never heard Shawn mooning over my Czech.”

 

“That’s because you mostly yell in Czech,” Emil pointed out.

 

“And your hot instructor isn’t yelling?” Helena, gesturing to Michele, who was both loud and a flurry of motions.

 

“Nope,” Emil grinned, popping the ‘p’. “He always talks like that, all movements, all raised voice, especially if he’s passionate.”

 

“You’re an absolute goner,” Helena said, switching over to English out of seemingly nowhere. “We have been here for three weeks, and it seems that all you have been able to do is mooning over him, you know that we’ll leave in two weeks and after that-”

 

Emil wasn’t pouting — okay, who was he kidding, he was pouting. He didn’t want to leave yet, even if they were barely half-way through their holiday. It had been difficult to get a few extra weeks off for the kids, but with your parents both being Olympic players, you could pull some strings, and money helped a _lot_. He was glad though that Helena had dropped her plans to visit Rome, opting to book the hotel for another two weeks instead. Emil liked skiing a lot more than going sightseeing in some random city.

 

“ _Ask him out_ ,” Helena hissed, not-so-gently punching his shoulder. “What’s the worst thing that can happen?”

 

Oh, that was very, very easy. “Well,” Emil started, mentally making amends with his conscious. “He could think I’m a lying piece of shit who has been faking it to get in his pants.”

 

Helena’s facial features softened drastically. “Oh Emil,” she sighed. “Do you really think he will think that? You haven’t even been trying to get in his pants — you flirt like a teenager who got his first crush.”

 

“Still, lying isn’t is a good way to build a relationship,” Emil said.

 

“No it isn’t,” Helena admitted. “But that doesn’t mean it makes a relationship impossible. It’s a bit of a harmless lie, you aren’t hurting anyone, and if you explain it, he might find it in himself to forgive you.”

 

Emil scrunched up his nose and took a sip of his now cold Hot Cocoa. Hot Coco really is supposed to be warm. “I think I’ll just tell him and drop out of the class, that way I might _have_ a chance.”

 

~*~

 

Sara had often said he should pursue a career in acting because he was _good_ at it. Not because he would do well on a stage, he would have insane stage fright, but he could act as if things didn’t affect him. That Emil’s boyish grin did nothing to him. On the inside, he was dying, his fingers irking to trace his thumb along the laugh lines or the faint crow feet that grace Emil’s face. But on the outside, he managed to smile subtly and keep up a professional facade — only Sara, and to an extent, Mila, knew his eternal struggles. Sometimes he wished he wasn’t so good at hiding his emotions because surely, Emil most think he was some soulless idiot.

 

“Hey, Michele,” Emil was smiling again, his lovely and so stupidly genuine smile. “Do you have a moment?”

 

The class had just ended, and it wasn’t odd that students wanted to talk to him. Though Emil rarely stuck around, often catching up with either his sister, Michele assumed it was his sister or cousins. He was glad that Emil wasn’t a dad himself — yes, Michele still would have liked him, definitely, but kids were a difficult hurdle, one Michele feared he would never overcome. After all, he wasn’t the greatest with kids. It was a small miracle that he hadn’t died yet from teaching kids how to ski. It had given him such anxiety beforehand and still, sometimes it made it somewhat difficult to sleep.

 

“Of course,” Michele said, straightening his back to give off more a professional look. He remained a teacher after all, and flirting with the students was a stupid thing to do, it could make him lose his job. “Is there something I can help you with?”

 

It was odd to see Emil genuinely nervous. He always seems to know how to handle situations well, it was never awkward with Emil, even not the first time when they met when Emil had landed face-first into the snow.

 

“Well, I have something to tell you,” Emil said, not meeting his gaze at all.

 

Michele’s heart escalated, and his brain was considering every possible scenario. Emil could say he was going to drop out of his class, which would suck but on the other hand, he had been steadily improving. He was one of the best of the class, actually, by now he was the best of the class as the rest had already dropped out, deciding that they were good enough to try out some slopes without guidance. Or, which Michele was hoping for, Emil would ask him out. Michele wouldn’t understand why Emil surely had a girlfriend back home. It seemed odd that someone like Emil would be single.

 

“Sure, what is-”

 

“Hey Crispino, still teaching the beginners class I see.”

 

The voice was unmistakably belonging to Smith, Michele’s favourite person from the teacher-cluster. Not. He hated Smith, he was an arrogant prick who taught the advanced class, solely because he _once_ managed to reach the Olympics, only to end last. But that didn’t deter the school to promote Smith to train the advanced group instead of Michele.

 

“Still being an arrogant prick I see,” Michele sneered, baring his teeth slightly.

 

Smith chuckled, holding his head high as he strode towards Emil and him, an arrogant grin plastered on his lips.

 

“Well, rather an arrogant prick who actually than teach than a C-grade teacher that teaches the absolute worst how to ski — how many graduates did you have this season? Three?”

 

Michele was ready to tell Smith to just fuck off, but for whatever stupid reason, Emil jumped to his aid. Emil took a step forward, putting himself between Smith and Michele.

 

“Michele is a good teacher,” Emil said, his voice steel and calm, which didn’t suit him at all. “He does a perfectly good job teaching the beginners. Do you know how hard it is to teach beginners how to ski? A strong foundation is everything; you couldn’t teach an advanced class if nobody got a proper start. The technique is the foundation for every sport, and it’s up to the teachers like Michele to teach the people that.”

 

It was silly how much it warmed Michele’s heart to hear Emil defend him like that. Not only with care but also with strong, actually correct, arguments. It was true that a solid foundation is important to be able to advance to a higher level, though Michele wondered _how_ Emil knew this. He hadn’t shown any affiliate with skiing or professional sporting in general.

 

Smith made a mocking face, a predatory-like grin formed on his lips. “Your new lapdog, Crispino? Wise words for a beginner.”

 

He really wanted to kick Smith’s ass, but he knew that Smith was the better skier of the two of them, and he was definitely a better skier than Emil. While he bragged a lot, Smith was a decent skier, not that skiing and teaching were the same things. Plenty of teachers were never the best in their sport, they were just the ones who had the knack to see things and teach them to people.

 

Sadly enough, Emil didn’t care that he was battling a losing battle. Instead, he chocked his head and his face portrayed innocence, clearly not helping to battle his case. “I don’t really like the way you’re treating Michele,” Emil said, the chipper-ness in his voice sent chills down Michele’s spine. “Is there any way I can get you to reconsider your opinion on Michele?”

 

It pleased Michele to see Smith slightly baffled. This clearly wasn’t what he was expecting — neither had Michele. It made his heart flutter to see Emil fighting for his pride in a very mature, admittedly kind of sexy, way.

 

“A ski-off,” Smith said, voice wavering a little. “I pick the slope, you get a head start of a minute and the first one to arrives down is the winner. If you make it first, I’ll apologise, if I win, well, I suppose that your defeat should be humiliating enough.”

 

Stepping forward, Michele placed a hand on Emil’s shoulder. “While I appreciate the thought,” he said, his voice shaking. “Don’t, you could seriously injure yourself.”

 

 Emil offered him a reassuring smile before brushing his hand off, meeting Smith’s gaze with newly-found confidence. “Deal.”

 

Oh dear. This wasn’t going well; this definitely wasn’t going well. He should at least have someone from first-aid on standby, and maybe considering setting up a lawsuit, in case Smith decides to play dirty. Not that he would need it, Emil wouldn’t stand a chance.

 

~*~

 

Michele noticed that there was a small audience on top of the slope. There were a few other skiers, of course, but there was also Mila, who looked far from concerned, Emil’s sister, husband and kids. Emil’s sister looked slightly smug. It was puzzling, as they should have been scolding Emil for the stupid idea like he had done. Not that it had helped, Emil is simply too stubborn — no, too _kind_ for that.

 

_(_ _“You shouldn’t have said that,” Michele said, ignoring the urge to hold Emil’s hand. “Smith is an ass, but it isn’t worth risking anything —what if you end up in the hospital?”_

_Instead of looking concerned, Emil offered him a charming smile — stupid charming smiles — and made a shrugging motion._ _“I’ll be fine, I mean, how good can he be?”_

_It should have sounded cocky, but it didn_ _’t. It sounded like Emil was deliberately picking his words, not just smack-talking. As if he didn’t consider Smith as a threat._

_“He once managed to reach the Olympics in Alpine skiing, in 2010 I suppose? But he didn’t win anything, but still-”_

_Instead of looking worried, which he should, Emil grinning even brighter._ _“Don’t worry, I’ll win this, and after that, I will have that conversation that he so rudely interrupted.”)_

 

“So, any regrets?” Smith asked Emil, who looked the most serious Michele had seen him. There wasn’t even a hint of a smile, it was full battle mode.

 

“Not really,” Emil said, shrugging nonchalantly and shooting Michele a quick, reassuring smile. “I’ll wait for you down the slope.”

 

It delighted Michele to see Smith growl, the instructor clearly wasn’t happy with the lack of nerves surrounding Emil. “Oh, and why do you think _you_ will win?”

 

Emil leaned closer to Smith, whispering something Michele would have killed to hear. Because only seconds later, all the colour drained from Smith’s face. Raw fear was a stark contrast to the usual cocky look.

 

It wasn’t long after that Emil readied himself, his starting position a carbon-copy from the guidebook. Michele hadn’t seen many people having such a good starting position, especially after just three weeks of practising. It was a bit the same like swimming, only professionals bothered with a good starting form, the rest just pushed off and winged it.

 

When the non-official referee blew his whistle, Emil went off like a bullet.

 

Michele was god-honest gaping as Emil went down the slope at a speed that _should_ belong on an Olympic level. Smith looked equally as mesmerised — though most likely more out of fear than anything else — as Emil vanished out of sight in maybe a dozen of seconds later.

 

As promised, Smith took off a minute after Emil, but it was most likely fruitless. Unless Emil was fluking the beginning and ended up eating snow, he would make it down way before Smith.

 

Putting on his goggles and making sure his skies were secure, Michele padded over to the edge of the slope and offered the referee a quick nod. It would be faster to go down himself than going with the ski lift. In addition, there was a possibility that had to scrape an Emil off the snow. Because Michele genuinely feared Emil just fluked the beginning.

 

~*~

 

His ankle wasn’t happy with his action to pull out all the stops. His heart, however, could never forget the terrified look on Smith’s face, or the awe on Michele’s face once he had arrived down the slope, meeting up with an obviously victorious Emil and a mortified Smith.

 

“That was amazing,” Michele said, unfastening his skies so he could properly walk in the snow. “Also, _explain_ yourself, this is definitely far beyond a beginner’s level. Actually, this isn’t even advanced level. You could go to the Olympics like this!”

 

It stung a tiny bit because now he had gone through the rush of actually skiing again, professionally, Emil missed it. But if he had gone to the Olympics, he wouldn’t have met Michele, and frankly, it has been quite a while since Emil had been this happy. Plus his ankle wouldn’t have survived it.

 

“Well, my ankle wouldn’t agree with that,” Emil admitted, offering Michele a sheepish smile. “Actually, that’s the reason I couldn’t go this year, I had a fair shot but eh. Injuries.”

 

Michele look a little stunned, which made Emil feel immensely proud. At least Michele wasn’t yelling at him yet, which meant he couldn’t be _that_ mad at Emil for lying.

 

“What do you mean by a fair shot?” Michele asked, expression morphing into confusion.

 

“Well,” Emil toed the snow with his boot. He was surprised at how scared he was to tell Michele, like, this was a big thing to hide. “Three-time Olympic medallist Emil Nekola at your service.”

 

Emil always had though becoming uncle was one of the most nerve wrecking things in the world. He had been there at the twins’ birth, holding Helena’s hand as Shawn had been pulled away because of a family emergency that had a terrible timing. This was worse, a lot worse because this could ruin _everything_.

 

At first, Michele’s face remained a blank canvas, not a single emotion was displayed. But slowly, Emil noticed that Michele’s breathing became faster, and his eyes grew a little wider. Surprise?

 

Out of nowhere, Michele threw his hands up in the air. “Now you’re officially completely out of my league — not that it matters, you certainly have a girlfriend because someone like you _can_ _’t_ be single. There are certain rules against that.”

 

Emil? Not single? He had been painfully single for _years_ because of his career and here Michele was telling him that he simply couldn’t be single-

 

On the other hand, Emil could hardly believe that Michele was actually single, but that was confirmed on multiple occasions. Michele, who cared about people a lot more than he led on. Michele who could be funny if he wanted, who didn’t question Emil’s silliness for a second. Not to mention the secretive expressions which made it rewarding to be able to read them, his extensive knowledge of law and the passion he talked about it. It helped that Michele was a handsome man, though Emil doubted that Michele would be able to see that himself.

 

“Well, you’re wrong,” Emil said, getting himself out of his skies. “I’m _single_ , people mostly want to sleep with me because I’m a gold-winning athlete. One woman, I liked turned heel the moment she saw my comic book collection — it isn’t even that big of a collection, really, most were from college, to be frank.”

 

It was cute to see Michele be a little lost for words. Cocking his head, Emil was greeted with an obviously confused look. “What’s wrong with comic books? If you like them, I mean, they’re pretty harmless.”

 

Emil blamed his dopey smile Michele’s words, which should be pretty fair because Michele was actually to blame. “You’re the first one to say that — the rest drops out the moment they realise that I’m not your stereotypical athlete, that I’m a nerd who camps outside for movie-premiers and my comic-con visiting streak is six and counting.”

 

“I know that my opinion isn’t that valuable,” Michele said. “But I never pegged you for a stereotypical athlete. The moment I met you, I saw you were a guy with a sweet personality, with dorky but genuine interests and passion that makes me wonder _how_ I ever passed law-school. Not that I knew that you were an athlete because you were a good job faking it — we still have to talk about that.”

 

Okay, yeah, it was all a bit hard to process. Michele genuinely liked, and most likely wanting to date him. Taking in the ‘completely out of your league’ comment in consideration and the fact that Michele had just, well, did it count as a confession? He categorised it as a confession, he _wished_ it was a confession.

 

“God, Crispino, you aren’t only a bad teacher but also _dense_ , he likes you!”

 

Well, for the first time Emil didn’t have the urge to strangle Smith. The sexual tension must have been sky-high for Smith to actually get annoyed — Emil thought he had been too busy moping over his loss to pay any attention to them.

 

“Well, he isn’t lying,” Emil admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean; the first time I saw you, I fell flat on my face. And after that, I dug my own grave with lying about that I was a beginner because I only had to look at you once and was lost for words.”

 

Michele blinked rapidly before smiling. Like, not his small, crooked, smile. No, it was a full-blown, dazzling smile Emil hadn’t seen before and he couldn’t wait to see it again.

 

“You’re killing me,” Michele said, hiding his face with fabric-covered hands. “You’re unbelievable.”

 

It was odd to find a thirty-two-year-old cute, but Michele was cute. It was sweet, and Emil could hardly keep a grin off his face.

 

After a bit, Michele lowered his hands. His grin had grown subtler, but it was still there, and Emil was the reason he was smiling like that.

 

Realising he was grinning like a moron, crow feet and laugh-lines on full display, Emil tried to smooth out his expression. He didn’t want to put off Michele, not after miraculously getting the man interested in him.

 

Too focused on getting his smile down, which was very hard, Emil was slightly startled when Michele was in his personal space.

 

“Don’t,” Michele whispered, gloved fingers running across his laugh lines and after that smoothing his slowly-forming crow feet. “I love your smile.”

 

Biting his lip, Emil resisted the urge to nuzzle into Michele’s hand. “Why?” he asked, taking one of Michele’s hand into his own. “It makes me look old.”

 

Michele laughed, squeezing Emil’s hand gently. “You’re twenty-eight, there is nothing wrong with ageing, and I seriously want to kick the person that made you insecure about how you look when smiling — your smile is beautiful.”

 

Laughing, Emil let his instinct kick and leaned into Michele’s touch. “Well, as we’re currently dishing out cheesy confessions,” Emil met Michele’s gaze head-on. “I love your eyes, I have been caught waxing poetry about multiple times, which is a bit silly but-”

 

Emil’s words were cut off by the subtle press of chapped lips against chapped lips. Okay, yes, he could live with this, he _definitely_ could live with this.

 

**July 2018**

 

Emil hoped that the people here actually spoke English. He had been practising his Italian , but six months wasn’t enough to bring it on a proper level. But it had to be plenty, as he officially had moved his training ground to Italy and he doubted that his coach would be happy to move, _again_.

 

Offering a few curious passers-by a polite yet charming smile, Emil entered the building Michele had said he worked in the off-season as a lawyer. He hadn’t told Michele that he was coming, well, at least not permanently. As far as Michele was aware, Emil would visit in a couple of weeks for a short visit. It would fall around the same time as Sara’s due date, something Emil wanted to be present for to offer support.

 

It had been a difficult half year, deciding to settle on a long-distance relationship with Emil trying to fly over to Italy as much as possible. Once a month was pretty much the limit, and that was rapidly draining his bank account. Hence the reason Emil had decided to move over to Italy, to actually live close to Michele. Now hoping that Michele wouldn’t mind, as it would be rather awkward if Emil tried to offer his boyfriend a key to their apartment and Michele wasn’t ready for that yet. Emil wouldn’t blame him, but it wouldn’t make things any better.

 

“I’m looking for Michele Crispino,” Emil asked in Italian, hoping that he hadn’t butchered op the words. The pronunciation was off anyway so he didn’t bother with it that much.

 

“Mr Nekola?” the receptionist asked, eyes shimmering with a certain level of joy.

 

“Yes,” he answered in English, not even thinking. “Is he busy? Because I can come back later if you want?”

 

The receptionist shook her head, her smile possibly growing even wider. “His office is on floor four, room number fifteen. Good luck, Mr Nekola.”

 

Offering the woman a curt nod and genuine smile, Emil made his way towards the stairs and started to climb up the levels. He liked climbing stairs, it helped him remaining fit and, foremost, he didn’t like elevators. They were claustrophobic and limiting, he liked to be _free_.

 

Knocking on door fifteen, Emil waited for Michele to respond.

 

A ‘come in’ in Italian followed soon, making Emil swoon a little. Apparently, he didn’t have a thing for Italian, it was just Michele’s Italian.

 

Feeling his heart beat out of his chest, Emil pushed open the door and slipped into the room. Michele had a pair of glasses — reading glasses but still, they fitted well — pushed up on his nose, and he was reading way too many documents. Emil was glad he wasn’t a lawyer.

 

Emil coughed, and Michele finally looked up.

 

Michele’s face lit up, eyes shimmering with joy. Making Michele smile had become his life-mission, and it always brought him happiness to see Michele smile, especially if he was the source of it.

 

“What are you doing here?” Michele asked, his voice slightly higher pitched than usual. “You weren’t supposed to be here for at least another couple of weeks!”

 

“Surprise?” Emil said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wanted to surprise you.”

 

Michele got up from behind his desk, tossing his reading glasses on the desk. Surprisingly fast considering the size of the desk, Michele had hurried around it and had pulled Emil in an embrace, forehead pressed together and sturdy hands placed on Emil’s hips.

 

“I missed you,” Michele mumbled, pressing a chaste kiss on Emil’s lips. “But you must be busy — you were here only three weeks ago and with your ankle being fine again-”

 

Emil took Michele’s words away with a kiss, grinning against Michele’s lips as the latter pulled him closer, making the kiss more a peck.

 

As they weren’t horny teenagers and office sex was definitely a no-go, they parted before things got really serious.

 

“I have another surprise, actually,” Emil said, creating more space between them. “Though I don’t know if you like this one.”

 

A worried expression painted Michele’s features, and Emil kicked himself for his choice of words. But he feared that he had rushed it too much, that their relationship was too new for something like this.

 

Emil slipped his hand into his pocket and fumbled with the key, carefully withdrawing it. Wordlessly, he pressed the small key in Michele’s hand, closing the man’s fingers around it.

 

“I moved my training ground to Italy,” Emil said, holding Michele’s hand between his own. “And I got an apartment close-by, and you have the spare key to it. Well, you don’t have to move in, but if you want to pass by once or twice, well…”

 

Michele looked close to tears. Actually, Emil was pretty sure Michele was tearing up, violet eyes rapidly growing damp. “Of course,” Michele whispered, as if afraid to actually speak the words out loud. “I would love to live with you — to see you every day instead a few days in a month and talk to you more than just through text, outdated memes and a few sparse phone-calls.”

 

Grinning, Emil pecked Michele’s lips before rubbing his thumb over Michele’s knuckles. “Well, that was sort of what I was thinking, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted — I mean, aren’t we moving a bit fast?”

 

“I was ready to marry you after you beat Smith’s ass, moving in together half-a-year later is definitely not too fast.”

 

The fact that Michele was already willing to marry him was astonishing, like, why would Michele want to marry _him_. Though, on the other hand, he wasn’t going to jinx this. If Michele was going to have him, that it was perfectly fine.

 

“Okay, so, will you move in with me?” Emil asked, offering Michele a hopeful look.

 

“I would love nothing more.”

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone within this story is actually crafted after an actual Olympic player aside from Emil, as the Czech Republic only has won bronze once in the Alpine Skiing category.


End file.
